


Bizarre Love Triangle

by botanicapoetica



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Hooker AU, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Sex Work, Yuppie Steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-18 06:49:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13094676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/botanicapoetica/pseuds/botanicapoetica
Summary: The Hooker AU I have been dying to write.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All thanks continuously go to Sarah aka inkyreveries

Business school was a fucking hellscape. Steve didn’t even know what he was doing with himself there, other than filling his half of a long standing obligation with his father. His days were filled with listening in on the most soulless lectures about shit like product-line planning and having conversations with people he would rather be an entire planet away from. He looked at himself in the mirror before presentations, saw the fucking clown in a suit in front of him, saw his asshole father. 

Even trying to get a drink somewhere after school became a chore, each sports bar filled with terrible people he either saw at school or people who looked like future versions of them. He’d gotten to the end of his rope and let himself wander out of the neighborhood, stumbling on a bar that looked unappetizing to anyone trying to have a career circle jerk. He knew he’d come to the right place when he saw unruly blonde curls and a barely buttoned shirt leaning up against the outside of it. 

Unfortunately for Steve, the person in question seemed to be occupied. A man in a drab tan suit was crowding him, one hand against the wall next to his head. Steve walked a bit closer, aiming to go inside, when the conversation caught his ear and made him pause. 

“I’ll make you fucking scream, and you can eat my come when you’re done. Sound good to you, bitch?” The man sneered, his voice like oil dripping out of his mouth. The blonde was just staring, his posture careful and composed. He looked scared, and that’s all Steve needed to walk up to them. 

“Is there a problem here?” Steve said, watching the blonde’s eyes land on him and widen almost imperceptibly. Jesus, those eyes were pretty. The man leaned back from his predatory stance, looking Steve up and down. 

“What? You have dibs on this whore or some shit?” The man said, narrowing his eyes at Steve. Steve’s hackles rose instantly and before he knew it, he was punching the slimy asshole right in the face. He’d been expecting a fight, but the second he recovered, the man seemed to have lost his confidence and ran off in a tear. He turned to check on the blonde but was met with a fist in his shirt and those eyes boring into his. 

“What the FUCK was that? Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Steve, I was just...helping?” Steve replied, trailing off because he couldn’t pin the rage on this guy. 

“You just ‘helped’ me stay fucking broke, you dipshit.” The blonde spit out after a long moment narrowing his eyes at him, like he was searching for something. He watched as the other boy let out an exasperated sigh, let go of his shirt, and walked straight into the bar. He trailed after him in confusion, watching the blonde give a half-hearted wave to a girl sitting at the bar, her eyebrows furrowing. 

“What happened to Married with Children, baby?”

“I was rescued. By this fucking Boy Scout.”

Steve felt everything move into place in an instant, and realized what a dipshit he actually was. He reached out to close a hand around the other boy’s very soft, very warm arm and gave him a searching look. “You’re a....” he said quietly, flinching at the laugh he was met with. 

“I’m whateeeeever you want.” The blonde said, smiling with all of his teeth like a shark. Steve saw the boy’s friend let out a cackle as he sat next to her, pushing her whiskey forward and signaling for another. He couldn’t help it, found himself sitting on the other side of the blonde, signaling for a drink of the same for the both of them. 

“What’s your name?” Steve ventured, pushing the boy’s drink toward him as it arrived. He watched the blonde sneer around the glass, drinking it in one go as slowly as possible. Steve’s eyes roved over strong eyebrows, long eyelashes, and an unbelievably plush mouth while he waited for an answer. When it didn’t come, he saw the girl on the other side lean forward. 

“C’mon Billy, don’t be such a sourpuss. There’s plenty of lonely saps out there waiting to paw at you.” She said, reaching out to twirl one of Billy’s curls in her finger. This was met with a playful slap as the other boy gritted out “Ifrah.” and stood up. 

Steve watched Billy straighten his hair and his jacket and finally fix him with a long look that made Steve feel like his guts were being pulled out and inspected. “Time to go salvage this night. Thanks for the drink.” was all he got and then Billy was walking out, Steve’s neck craning to watch his ass as he sauntered out. 

He felt a small hand on his shoulder pull him out of his thoughts and the girl, Ifrah he guessed, was patting him. She had this pitying look on her face, like a mother comforting her child after an ill-advised tumble. 

“You poor, poor idiot.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His days were soul sucking and empty no matter the company, and the bar was crammed full of life and diversity and authenticity. And Billy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to sweet Sarah

Steve had fallen into a predictable pattern over the following months; school or internship, followed by drinks at the bar every few nights. He could readily admit it was his favorite part of the week but had a harder time fully explaining why. His days were soul sucking and empty no matter the company, and the bar was crammed full of life and diversity and authenticity. And Billy. The possibility of interacting with him was sometimes the only thing keeping Steve from upending his desk or cracking his briefcase over someone’s head. 

At first, their interactions consisted of Billy leaning against the bar outside smoking and pretending Steve wasn’t there for multiple minutes. Steve got the feeling that Billy didn’t like talking to men unless they wanted something; he would freely speak to any of the women he knew in passing, even if Steve was standing there waiting for him to reply to something. 

Around this time, Ifrah had started to take an interest in him. Whenever he came in she would wave at an empty seat at the bar, until Steve plopped himself there without a second thought. He would either slap his internship briefcase on the stool next to him or fan his homework out in front of him, diving into his daily sorrow while Ifrah shot questions at him every now and then. She asked about school, his job, what neighborhood he lived in, and how his day was. Once she very bluntly asked him if he was queer, to which he answered “Unfortunately for Mr. Harrington Senior, yes.” He could’ve sworn she looked pleased at that, for some reason. Sometimes when they were talking Steve felt Billy’s eyes boring holes into him, but whenever he’d look the blonde was out of sight or occupied. 

A day came when Steve approached Billy, giving him a wide berth but sticking his hand out to offer a cigarette, something that made him feel like he was approaching a feral animal every time. Before he could say anything, the usual way this started, Billy spoke up. 

“What’s the suit for?” The blonde said, cigarette bobbing in between his lips, his eyes resolutely forward as always. 

Steve’s head turned at Billy’s voice, some kind of embarrassing giddiness bubbling up inside him. “Oh! Uh, it’s for my internship. Business school, have to work in this horrible fucking company a few days a week.”

Steve watched Billy tilt his head back for a second, his dark eyelashes fluttering as he exhaled a long plume of smoke, then back down to look him in the eyes. It was that same look that made Steve feel like he was on an exam table or some shit, but it seemed to settle on something, a sly smile spreading across his face. 

“I can just about guarantee your company’s nowhere near as horrible as mine.”

Steve didn’t really know what to say to that, had laughed awkwardly, but Billy hadn’t looked like he minded. He took this for what it was; a carefully outstretched hand. From then, Steve found it easier and easier to watch and listen to Billy. 

There was one particular sight where Steve very clearly wasn’t invited. Some days he would come into the bar and Billy wouldn’t be outside or at the bar but at a table with three other women. The blonde would shoot hard looks at people to keep them from approaching, then duck his head back into the conversation. It seemed largely lighthearted, and Steve watched with the sense that this was a group of people trying to participate in some kind of normalcy. The girls poked at Billy, lecturing him on his outfits and asking him things like when the bathroom light was going to get fixed, and that was another tidbit Steve got to save for himself. It sounded like they all lived together, and Steve felt inexplicably happy not having to picture Billy coming home to an empty little space but to one filled with warm sound and people who seemed to have a vested interest in him. It was kind of sweet, watching them argue over paying for drinks, hearing Billy tell one of the girls to visit their mother. Sometimes though, it wasn’t sweet at all. 

Steve had come in one night, hoping to get drunk enough to confess his undying...whatever to Billy like he had every night lately. The closer he got to Billy’s table, the clearer it was that this wouldn’t be the best time. The girls were fussing over him, even Ifrah had come over to lean across the table, and Steve saw why. His left eye was sporting a mean looking bruise, and Billy looked tired as shit, pushing the girls’ prodding hands away and ducking his head into his shoulders to try and hide from their chiding. 

“You gotta stop seeing that prick, honey. I know it’s just twice a year but this is-it’s too much, Billy.” Ifrah said, her eyebrows drawn closely together. The girls seemed to agree, one pushing a glass of ice at Billy that was pushed back away with the shake of his head. 

“It’s just some bored businessman. I can handle it.” Billy said shortly, and Steve watched as he shifted in his seat with a poorly covered up wince. It set Steve’s mind reeling as he settled into his seat at the bar, reluctantly turning his back to the table. A businessman. Twice a year, but for how many years? Had Steve met him before? All of this shit would never be answered, and Steve felt sick. He fanned books and reports in front of him, tried to push down the thought that he might’ve shook hands with the sort of people that set Billy’s teeth on edge and left him looking that tired. 

The night after next Steve was surprised to see Billy on his own, nursing a drink, one hand rubbing at his eyes. He came and sat down next to the blonde, dropping his briefcase on to the ground, thoughts of work to be done leaving him. He gave Ifrah a small nod and a smile when a drink appeared in front of him, turning his body more fully toward Billy, who hadn’t acknowledged him yet. He still looked tired, maybe more than the last time he’d seen him, and Steve watched him blink a few times as he took Steve in. 

“Long week?” Steve ventured, and Billy’s eyebrows raised with a half-hearted chuckle. He looked down at Billy’s left hand resting in a lightly clenched fist against his leg, how it shook in a way that reminded Steve of long anxiety-filled nights studying and forgetting to eat. He forced his eyes to move back up when he felt Billy’s eyes on him. 

“You have no idea, Steve.” Billy said, having long since lost that sharply examining eye toward Steve, instead just sad and exhausted, with some kind of stubbornness holding the whole thing together. That seemed to be a common theme, Steve over eager to break it. His eyes flicked back down at Billy’s hand and he watched himself reach out, unable to stop his hand from closing over the other boy’s, working the fist into something softer with his own fingers. Billy flinched almost imperceptibly, but didn’t pull his hand away, so Steve kept it there. Just as long as Billy would let him.


End file.
